


Meeting in the Middle

by Miya_Morana



Category: Good Omens - Gaiman & Pratchett, Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-06
Updated: 2010-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miya_Morana/pseuds/Miya_Morana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel, archangel of the Lord, walks into a bar and meets Hastur, Duke of Hell. They have to talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meeting in the Middle

**Author's Note:**

> Written fot the Ficathon Walks In A Bar. Beta-ed by Kijikun.

Mike's bar is the kind of place you'd think you'd only see in a graphic novel or a Joss Whedon TV show. It's the place where all the things that go bump in the night can fit in, just relax, be themselves and have fun. A place where they don't have to look over their shoulders or hide what they are.

It's probably the only place where they can all meet without any risk of losing their skin. Well, except for the skinwalkers that is. But the owner's pretty strict about that, no shedding in the bar, or you stay and clean the mess.

It's still early when Gabriel arrives, so the place is mostly empty. There's a group of witches in a small booth and a rugaru's eating several plates of raw meat in a corner; while a banshee is having a drink with a djinn and a couple of vampires are chatting up a pretty ghoul at the bar. There's also a tall, lean man – well, a demon actually – standing a few paces from the group at the bar and he manages to look completely out of place.

Gabriel walks up to him and leans against the bar, signals the bartender (a young, handsome werewolf who happens to be Mike's son, if he remembers correctly, and he always does). He then turns to the demon with an amused smile. "Which one are you then?" he asks, taking a sip at the bluish drink the bartender gives him. There's a little yellow umbrella in it.

"I'm Hastur," the demon says in a guttural voice. He looks too stiff, too much on the alert, like he's expecting to be attacked any second now. Which is just ridiculous. They didn't choose Mike's bar for it's subdued lighting or the soft elevator music playing in the background, after all.

They're meeting here because of its anti-violence _geis_, assuring both parties that nothing will happen to them. All archangel that he is, Gabriel can't do anything that would harm the demon.

"Duke of Hell, huh?" he answers lazily. "Glad to see you're taking this seriously Downstairs, too. I'm Gabriel." He takes another sip of his drink.

"The archangel," he adds for good measure.

Hastur eyes him warily, but doesn't look impressed. Gabriel rolls his eyes because really, the whole mysterious and menacing act gets old quite quickly.

"So, tell me more about that demon who's been corrupting my little brother, will ya?" The archangel asks, casually sitting on one of the high stools in front of the bar. Hastur grits his teeth before answering.

"He's a pain in the arse, that's all I have to say. Not even sure he's the one doing the corrupting."

Gabriel laughs then, because the idea of Aziraphale corrupting anyone is just too much. So yeah, he's gone a little bit native, but by no means as much as Gabriel did. Hastur glares at him.

"I'm nut kidding. Crowley's helped stop two Apocalypses now because of that angel of his."

Gabriel frowns. "Two? Oh, yeah, I had forgotten about the whole Adam Young disaster. I wasn't around for that one." Gabriel chews on the little umbrella that used to be in his drink. It leaves a sweeter taste on his tongue than the cocktail had.

There's a gleam of hatred in the demon's eyes that intrigues Gabriel.

"What did he do to you?" he asks, because if this Crowley can piss of a Duke of Hell, the archangel needs to know how. Aziraphale had always been one of his favorite brothers; he wasn't going to leave him with someone too dangerous.

Hastur doesn't answer, at first. He's glaring at Gabriel and taking swift glances around the room. The Duke of Hell sighs. "He trapped me in a cassette tape. On his answering machine."

Gabriel laughs then, a short, joyous but slightly mocking burst of laughter. Okay, so he really has to meet this Crowley now. Something tells him they'll get along just fine.

"Come on, let me buy you a drink," he says to Hastur. The demon doesn't answer, but Gabriel signals the bartender anyway.

Three hours later, Gabriel and Hastur are still at the bar, a collection of empty glasses in front of them. Hastur's waving a shot of vodka as he sings in a low key, while the archangel lightly hums along.

"_The captain's daughter, Mabel  
Though young, was fresh and able  
To fornicate  
With the second mate  
Upon the chartroom table_"

Some of the patrons are more than annoyed and glaring at them. Others are laughing as the demon sings bawdy verse after bawdy verse. When the song comes to an end, Hastur downs his vodka shot and asks for another one.

"In fact, leave us the bottle," Gabriel says to the barmaid who had only started her shift fifteen minutes ago and already wanted to have them thrown out of the bar. Gabriel knew that, because it's easy to read a Troll's mind, even if it's glamoured as a pretty girl. Pretty and busty. Dean would like her. Castiel wouldn't.

The archangel pours Hastur a drink, then pours one to himself. "Do you know _Captain McKean_?" he asks with a grin.

"Nut sure. How does it go?"

"_Bonny maidens all both great and small ,_" Gabriel begins. His voice is a clear tenor and should be too beautiful for the rude words of the song, but the archangel manages to put just the right amount of bawdiness in it. "_Come listen a while to my ditty, my ditty, I'll sing you a song and before it belong._"

Hastur joins in with his guttural voice.

"_I'm sure you will say it is pretty is pretty  
Of Captain McKean that jolly brave man   
That lives in county of carry of carry   
Who carries a prick that's both long and thick   
That makes all the lasses full merry, full merry_"

They are slightly off-key, but too drunk to care. Which isn't the case of the other patrons of the bar, and before they reach the end of the song they are being non-violently but quite forcefully thrown out.

Hastur's obviously the drunkest of the two, barely able to stand upright, so he's grabbing Gabriel's shoulder for support. The archangel throws an arm around the demon's waist and half-drags him through the parking lot.

"Hey Duke-y, how are you planning to go home?"

Hastur just grumbles incomprehensibly. His head falls on Gabriel's shoulder, and the angel sighs. Sam is going to be pissed.

He seems to be right.

When he teleports to the motel room Sam's checked in, he's met by a dark glare. He drops the demon on one of the beds and Hastur just lies there, mumbling drunkenly in the sheets. Gabriel turns to face the hunter. Funny, the room seems to spin with him.

"You're not keeping it," Sam snaps, his serious face on.

Gabriel smiles. "Oh, come on," he pleads, "I promise I'll feed him and walk him and give him all his shots!" His lips are curved in an amused smirk.

Sam sighs, smiling softly. "Seriously, Gabriel, I barely ever see you since you went back to Heaven. And on one of the rare nights we get together you go to a bar and bring back a demon?"

Sam shakes his head, but he's still smiling when Gabriel walks up to him and pulls him down in a fierce kiss.

"Man, you're drunk, aren't you?" Sam asks while the angel's hands slide under his shirt.

"Maybe," Gabriel says, then he kisses him again. "Less talking, more fucking?" he asks against Sam's lips.

Sam's hands grab his ass possessively. "Agreed," he grunts.

Hastur's way too busy looking at the ceiling spinning above him to take notice of Gabriel and Sam's rocking bed next to where he's lying. Or their moaning. He starts singing again.

" _Aboard the good ship Venus  
You really should have seen us..._"


End file.
